


Bad Dreams

by Merilsell



Series: Lenyaverse: Sidestories [3]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: F/M, Humor, One Shot, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2012-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-12 14:39:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merilsell/pseuds/Merilsell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darkspawn Chronicles parody. Takes part in the OEaH-Universe, but can be read on its own. Alistair/F!Mahariel pairing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Dreams

**Bad dreams**

Denerim was burning.

The relentless, blazing heat of the flames swallowed everything they touched, threading their way upon the dusty ground up to the buildings, devouring them.

The sky was tainted blood-red and clouded by the stinging smoke of the fire and burning flesh. Men and women were screaming alike, running away in panic but there was no escape of the dreaded, impending dead looming over them. They should have been evacuated, long gone before the attack started. But the message didn't reach the capitol in time and now it was too late. One by one got slaughtered by the darkspawn, bashed away like little puppets by the mighty ogre wading through the streets, roaring and conquering.

One of them was a not-so young, sour-milk smelling washerwoman, who tried to escape of the creature's grasp and hysterically screamed "Alistair, Alistair, HELP!" even shortly before the ogre smashed her like an old cabbage.

The hurlock vanguard marched in front of its group, seemingly pleased of all the mindless destruction and killing its troop has caused and with a terrifying grunt incited them for more, storming upfront itself. Their sanguinary trace of blood through the streets had a chant of its own, humming  _killkillkill_ with every merciless step they made further into the heart of the city.

~V~

Amidst all the chaos stood one man dressed in Templar armor, momentarily constipated by all the death surrounding him, stirring.  _No,_ he shook his head. He couldn't get moved by this, wasn't allowed to, not when he had only one goal.

Stopping the blight.

It was his duty as Ferelden's last Grey Warden, his destination. A crying roar filled the entire air and an immense shadow darkened the red horizon even more. His head drove up to the sky, locating the sound of the flapping wings, as he saw the  _archdemon_ flying into the direction of Fort Drakon. This would be his objective, the ultimate one. He must reach the top of that building, no matter the cost.

He had come so far, he couldn't fail now, not after he managed to gather such a strong troop to defend his nation. Determination was etched into his expression as he ran across the battlefield to the gates of Fort Drakon, killing everything in his way. He was about to storm through the doors of it, as an unexpected but warm voice made him stop on his heels.

"Warden-king Alistair!" He turned around to see the blood-stained but lovely frame of Leliana before him. For a brink of a moment his stern expression softened as he gazed at her in her Chantry robe. She has always looked so endearing in it, that he never had bothered to buy her  _other_  clothes...or armor.

It would have been a waste.

"I hope you know what you are doing..." Leliana lowered her gaze," ...and that your plan will work."

The Warden-commander looked at her, eyes sparking confidence. "It will work. The golem's and werewolves are strong allies. I haven't slaughtered an entire Dalish clan for nothing. We do what we have to do, and everyone is standing up and fights for Ferelden. Even Arl Howe is defending his city now. A good,  _honest_  man."

"But...but – " Leliana stammered, concern grazing her features.

He interrupted her, voice soft. "You worry too much. It will be  _glorious_." To emphasize his last words, he shook his head. "Also I have Barkspawn and Morrigan coming with me. So trust me, we can't lose."

Behind Leliana, the wickedly snickering witch suddenly made her appearance. "Oh, 'tis going to be amusing; funny even." Morrigan tried to suppress another fit of laughter ripping through her, but failed as her eyes catch the odd couple in front of her.  _Hilarious_.

While ignoring Morrigan's insane, now unconstrained giggling in the background, he stepped forward to the bard, embracing her. "Take care," he whispered and kissed he –

.

.

* * *

.

"AAAARGH!"

A brief but loud scream hollered through Arl Eamon's estate, tearing the stillness of the night apart for a moment. Alistair jolted upright in his bed, his breath ragged and blinked, profoundly confused. He struggled to focus his eyes in the darkness of this room, his mind racing with the difficulty to distinguish of dream and reality. One sweated palm was rubbing his face in the need to get rid of those previous, disturbing pictures, but didn't succeed completely.  _It has been a dream, right?_ He was still utterly bewildered.

_**He** _ _being the last Warden? Leader? Even Warden-_ _**king** _ _? Andraste's ass..._

_Last Warden..._

These two words haunted Alistair, somehow didn't let him out of its grasp. The unoccupied hand checked the other side of the bed, and found it empty where  _she_  should lie by now. Where she had _been_  before. He felt like an utter delirious and complete fool for letting a dream get so under his skin, but it felt so...so bizarrely  _real_.

Alistair took a deep breath, trying to calm his mind. It was senseless. He needed to find her now, seeing that everything was okay. Clinging to that thought, the young man crawled out of the bed and stumbled towards the door in total darkness.

Alistair opened the door a crack, peeked out of it and found the long hall of the estate empty. With more courage now, he stepped outside his room, completely disregarding the improper clothing in form of only his underwear. The Warden saw a sheen of light illuminating the floor afar and distantly could hear a female voice whispering, but couldn't make out to whom it belonged. Like a moth to the flame he was lured to the trace of light, in the hope to find her there. The voice intensified in volume and was more like a laughing as he came closer.

"I suppose, I should go back." Alistair's heart skipped a beat by recognizing the voice. "Good night, Leliana."

It was her, his fellow Warden. His love. Alistair accelerated his pace as her small, lithe frame appeared in his sight for a moment, before it was melting within the darkness again.

"Good night, Lenya," Leliana called after her, and the bard's voice let him froze for a second, the pictures of the dream all still too apparent. _Ugh_. He liked Leliana, but not and  _never_  in  _this_  kind of way.

_Grotesque, bad dre-_

"Ouch." Lenya bumped into something, she knew hadn't been  _there_  on her way before. Although it wasn't a wall or object...  _rather a person_ , how her mind affirmed – a very  _familiar_  person. She would recognize his form, the curve of his muscles even in the bleakest night. "Alist-" the elf's voice was cut off by his sudden, tight embrace.

Before he could fathom what he was doing, Alistair held her in his arms. He pressed her against his chest in the need of feeling her presence, buried his face in the crook of her neck and sighed in relief at the familiar scent of her hair and skin. Stupid, stupid idiot he was to let a dream unsettling him so.

Lenya needed a moment to shook off the utter surprise of his assault, and eventually relaxed in these well-known arms. After a short while of total tranquility with neither of them even moving, she couldn't suppress the chuckle anymore that urged to come up her throat.

"Missed me  _soo_  much, I take it?"

Alistair released her out of his embrace a bit and stepped back, his fingers still grasping the backside of the light tunic, she was wearing. "I...uh...sorry. Didn't want to scare you."

Her green eyes gleamed faintly in the sheen of light behind them, amused. "I don't mind if you  _scare_  me like  _that._ Bad dreams, huh?"

He was too distracted of her hands which were affectionately brushing over his bare back to form an actual sentence, so he simply nodded.

"Darkspawn?"

Now it was Alistair's turn to chuckle. "I fear, it was worse. I was  _leading._ "

"Well," Lenya smirked as she looked down at him, "that would explain the no pants part at least. Not that I would mind, either."

"That? Oh. I knew I have forgotten something as I stumbled out of my room."

"So a dream where you was leading? Care to fill me in? Sounds like an interesting good-night-story." She took his hand and dragged him toward the door of their room.

"More a bizarre one, really. I was the last Warden, leading an army of werwolves and golems to the siege against the archdemon in Denerim. And Morrigan was constantly  _giggling_. I can't even say which part was  _more_  disturbing."

Lenya fell silent for a moment as she processed his words. "Morrigan... giggling? Golem's? Last Warden? Oh, wooow...err... interesting. " She blinked."…Wait... did you say  _werewolves_? Your dream version sided  _with_  the  _werewolves_? Against  _my_  people? Creators, where did you hit your head?" Still shaking her head in a mixture of disbelief and amusement, the Dalish woman went to light a candle and shut the door behind them.

Alistair sighed."I wish I knew. It was like watching a grotesque version of myself." He lowered his voice to a deep tone. " _Bizarro- Alistair,_   _that's me_.  _King_  of the Warden." He walked over to her and pulled her back into his arms. "And when I woke up – more than mildly confused – you weren't there..." He gently traced the line of her jaw down with kisses, eliciting a single content, trembling sigh from her lips.

"Because I couldn't sleep, sorry." She looked up to him."All this landsmeet stuff is killing me. I will never get the shemlen politics. It's really annoying," Lenya groaned." I didn't want to disturb your sleep when I got up, so silently sneaked out of our room. While ambling over the floor, I met Leliana and got caught up by her in a long, fervid talk about nobles and dresses. And here I thought Eamon's politic lessons were  _excruciating_..."

He unintentionally stiffened at the mentioning of the bard's name. "I ...see. Wished you were here, then. It was a really confusing dream. The last Warden...as if you have never existed," Alistair swallowed,"... _alone_  the thought..."

"Hmm," Lenya hummed, distracted by his warmth surrounding her. "I suppose if Duncan hadn't found me in time,  _this_  would have happened. I would have succumbed to the taint like..." she faltered for a moment,"...Tamlen."

"Now that is a reassuring thought," he muttered under his breath, instinctively pressing her even closer to his chest.

"But I'm here." The Dalish stretched herself to catch his lips, her fingers caressing the lines of his jaw in a comforting gesture, while kissing him. "It was just a dream,  _emma lath,_ " she murmured a bit breathless, after pulling away again. Then added, smirking. "The king part, however, is  _not_."

Alistair groaned and rolled his eyes so hard, that he was afraid they would get stuck in his skull."Oh Maker, thank you for reminding me on  _that_ , love."

Lenya grasped his hand to lead him back to their bed and smiled. "Don't worry, we'll work that out, too. You are not alone.


End file.
